


Ashleigh and the Apotheosis

by quackquackbi



Series: Hot Chocolate Boy/OC Series [1]
Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Multiple Endings, Self-Insert, i just really love robert manion okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26496172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quackquackbi/pseuds/quackquackbi
Summary: Hot Chocolate Boy/OC story, reposted.Ashleigh just wanted to forget her past. She wanted to get out of her hometown, go to college far away, and live happily. But she lives in Hatchetfield, so good luck with that.Features three alternate endings.
Relationships: Hot Chocolate Boy/OC
Series: Hot Chocolate Boy/OC Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926346
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1: The Calm and the Storm

She missed the days of middle school. Things were easier then, she wasn't so worried about college or friends. But now she didn't have any friends, and she may not get college.

All she had were her grades, a shitty job as a barista, and a shitty apartment she had to pay for herself. Whoop de doo.

If she didn't get good grades, she wouldn't be able to get any scholarships, which were her only chance at college, at a life better than what she had. None of that would matter if she couldn't pay rent, though, and she couldn't pay rent if she didn't do her job.

Ashleigh sighed inaudibly as she rinsed out the last mug of the stack. She'd been washing them while her coworker, Emma, served customers. Or tried to, anyway, between singing every time someone tipped. Ashleigh liked singing, on her own time. Not when she was forced to. Emma hated it even more, though.

Speaking of whom, Emma grimaced as she brought another tray full of dirty mugs to be washed. 

"Your turn up there," she muttered. "If I have to sing for one more entitled asshole, I'm gonna blow a gasket. Or a hole in Nora and Zoey's heads." She winked at Ashleigh, bumping her hip to nudge her away from the sink.

Blowing a loose strand of hair from her face, Ashleigh stepped up to the front counter and started wiping it down as she waited for the next customer to enter. When the front door's bell jingled softly, she glanced up and instantly deflated inside. But she put on her best customer service face and voice and said,

"Hi, welcome to Beanie's, what can I get you?"

Peter, her former best friend and now academic rival, openly stared daggers at her as he ordered his usual. He ordered it every time he came in, even back when they were still friends.

"A large hot chocolate, please." He paid, and then made eye contact with Ashleigh as he put a dollar in the tip jar.

She suppressed a sigh, and sang a short tune, one of the ones Nora— her boss— had suggested.

" **I've been brewing up your coffee,** " she sang, trying to not look as annoyed as she felt. " **All the live-long day. I've been brewing up your coffee, just to pass the time away. Can't you hear the kettle blowing, rise up so early in the morn'... can't you hear the bosses shouting, 'you got their order wrong!'** "

Satisfied, Peter nodded and moved to wait at the table he always sat at. He always did his homework at Beanie's, seemingly just to annoy Ashleigh while she worked. Or maybe it was to show off how easily and quickly he finished it. Ashleigh didn't know, and she didn't care. She  _ didn't _ .

She started to make the hot chocolate, but then a bunch of people came in at once, and she had to get Emma's help. Ashleigh was back to washing dishes about fifteen minutes later when she heard the shouting.

"That sign's bullshit!" A man spat at Emma, swearing to not come back.

"Oh my god, so mean," Emma mocked, flipping the guy off.

"Emma, what's the deal over here?" Nora asked, coming out of her office.

"That guy just flipped out on me for practically no reason," Emma said, dismissing the dude as just another asshole.

"She wouldn't sing for him," someone else piped up, and Ashleigh refrained from rolling her eyes. Peter had come back up to the counter. "And I still haven't gotten my hot chocolate!"

"Sorry, I'll get right on that," Ashleigh mumbled. "That's my fault, Nora."

"I have very low blood sugar," Peter said, going back to his table, and Nora promised him a voucher before turning back to Emma.

"I've already warned you twice!"

"Well it's embarrassing, Nora," Emma groaned. "I mean, God, maybe Zoey's okay with the whole singing thing because she majored in theatre..."

"I think it's a really fun idea, Nora," Zoey drawled, joining the conversation.

"Why aren't you working?" Ashleigh asked testily. God, she hated Zoey.

"Oh, I'm on vocal rest," she said sweetly, tapping the hollow of her throat as she whispers the answer.

"What?" Emma said, pretending not to hear her.

"I'm on vocal—" she started to repeat herself louder before realizing what Emma was trying to do. She cursed and went to make herself some tea. Nora stared at Emma in disbelief, who sighed and said,

"Look, can't Zoey just do the singing? I don't like it."

Nora shrugged and said, "Well then I guess you must not like having a job."

"Nora—" Emma rolled her eyes, going to make the next person's order.

"You know what, just don't even bother showing up for your next shift!" Nora started to walk away. Emma nearly dropped the kettle, and hurried after their boss.

"Woah, wait, wait—! I— I'll do the singing," she groaned again.

"Yeah, you will," Nora replied with a threatening air. "Now move your asses, the both of you. You've got a line!" With that, Nora retreated to her office.

Ashleigh went back to the dishes, while Emma attended to the next customer, who had an obvious crush on her. Ashleigh saw him in Beanie's all the time. He always got a black coffee for himself, and sometimes a caramel frappe as well for someone else.

She started humming while she did the dishes, trying to tune out everyone else until the end of her shift. Just a few more minutes...

"Excuse me!" Peter's voice rang out. "I have been waiting a very long while..."

—————

_ Ashleigh giggled as she let her best friend lead her up to her own room. They were six years old, wanting nothing more than to play with her superhero toys. He liked Batman, she liked Spiderman. They used her Barbies as the supervillains, and had Batman and Spiderman team up to rescue the only good Barbie doll, Ashleigh's favorite, the one with the pink, glittery bathing suit painted right onto her hard plastic body. _

_ "Take that!" Peter cried, making Batman karate-chop one of the evil Barbies—a dark haired one that came with a rubber mermaid tail that could be taken off— in the throat. _

_ Ashleigh made the 'thwip' noises of Spiderman's webshooters, and slammed another evil Barbie— this one blonde and wearing a fairy princess costume— to the carpet. "Haha!" She said in a deep voice. "Victory is ours, Batman!" She switched to a higher-pitched voice, and started moving the good Barbie around. "Oh, thank you, heroes!" _

—————

Ashleigh tried not to think about those days as she rode her bike home that evening. It was easier to pretend they didn't exist than to let herself mourn them. The rain was coming down thick, cutting into her skin like little daggers as she rode.

Pulling up outside her run-down apartment building, she locked up her bike tightly with not one but TWO locks, and went inside. Hers was on the first floor, which was the only nice thing about it, but between her hourly wage at Beanie's, low tip average, and the emancipation checks she got in the mail, it was all Ashleigh could afford.

She tossed her keys and work apron onto the couch and went to collapse on her bed face-first. She was soaked to the bone from the ride home, but didn't bother to change into anything dry. She just laid face-first on the bed and groaned into her mattress.

Thunder boomed overhead, and Ashleigh grabbed her pillow and pressed it over her ears in an attempt to block the sound. It didn't really do much good.

She sighed and dragged herself back out of bed to get a quick shower and change into her pajamas. The water pressure was dismal, and the temperature ocellated on its own between too hot and too cold, but at least it was predictable enough that Ashleigh was able to have a routine to avoid the cold moments. She washed her hair, rinsing away the strands that came out between her fingers, then scrubbed her whole body down from head to toe until she felt raw, before finally rinsing herself off.

Once she was dry, she changed into sweatpants and a teeshirt and went back out into the main room to grab some dinner. There wasn't much left— tomorrow was grocery day anyway— so she grabbed a granola bar and a spoonful of peanut butter. She sat on the couch as she ate, moving her keys and apron to the upside-down cardboard box she used as a coffee table.

She ate as slowly as she could, trying to savor every bite. When she finished, she washed the spoon and threw away her garbage before heading to bed. More thunder ripped across the air, and in the distance was a faint whistling sound, like something falling.

Ashleigh slept with her pillow covering her head instead of under it.


	2. Chapter 2: The Meteor

The next morning, Ashleigh heard about the meteor while she was getting ready for work. Sundays meant a nine hour shift, so she also had to make sure she took her backpack with her, so she could work on her homework during her breaks.

She unlocked and rode her bike into town, and noticed what looked like a flashmob just down the street from Beanie's. They were singing and everything.

But she was already running a little late— by her own standards, even though she would still get there fifteen minutes earlier than her scheduled shift— so she decided to ignore it and keep going.

The first part of her shift was fine, except for having to learn an entire song for any time someone tipped, and how weird Nora and Zoey were acting. Not just the words and harmonies of a new song, but the choreography, too. Nora and Zoey had choreography for it. They made Ashleigh and Emma rehearse it.

It took up the entire first hour of her shift, learning the song and dance. It was upbeat, fast, and jazzy, and difficult to keep up with. Somehow, Ashleigh and Emma managed.

" **Getcha cup of roasted coffee,** " the song went. The four baristas sang in harmony, with Ashleigh on the top part. " **Your mornin' cup of joey. We'll make a jammin' cup of java, mocha lattae with the froth for you, Jack— frappachino! With the freshly roasted mung beans, it's a caramel drizzle mud in a cup. With a drip, drip— drip, drip— drip! And we'll bring it right up!** "

Then Nora had a solo, while the other three sang 'ooh, ooh' in background harmonies.

" **Hey, Mr. Business, how do you do? Can we get a triple for you? Decalf?** "

" **Whaaaaat?** " The other three interjected, waving their arms in circles. Ashleigh tried not to seem as bored as Emma was, but it was difficult.

" **Decalf!** " Nora repeated.

" **Whaaaaat?** " The other three echoed again, then all four went back to their original quartet harmonies.

" **Do dit, di do dit, di do dit, di do dit,** " they sang. " **And we'll bring it right up! Oi, oi, oi!** "

Then came the truly difficult part of the whole thing, the dance break. They had to pass out orders as they did it, too. Finally, the last section of the song.

" **And we'll bring iiiiit,** " they harmonized. " **And we'll bring iiiiiit** —"

" **Right** —" Nora sang.

" **Right** —" Zoey added, a beat later.

" **Right** —" Emma jumped in another beat later.

" **And we'll bring it right up!** " Ashleigh finished the song by herself.

They had to actually perform that, twice, before Ashleigh's lunch break.

She ducked out back for a breather, exhausted from the "dumbass tip song" as Emma called it. The others were just starting up again. After a few moments of peace and quiet in that back alley, Ashleigh heard Emma shouting, terrified. Assuming the worst, that someone had pulled a gun (since this was America, after all), she ran.

She was ashamed of it, but Ashleigh never claimed to be brave. She ran until she was out of breath, and even then she kept running until she was almost home. She took note that the flashmob from earlier was still going, and getting bigger. Then she crashed into someone.

_ ————— _

_ When Ashleigh turned eleven, Peter was the only one to show up to her birthday party. _

_ It was Harry Potter themed, of course, and all the decorations and partywear were appropriate to match. There were going to be games, and contests with prizes. Everything was going to be so much fun. She knew she was growing up, and had intended for this to be her last real birthday party before her Sweet Sixteen. She wanted to go all out. _

_ She had invited most of the classmates— Lex Foster, Ethan Green, Grace Chastity, Deb Hancock, Alice Johnson, Rachel Harris, Max Turner, Oliver Baker, and more— but only Peter had showed up. _

_ He sat with her at her parents' dinner table, eating cake off a Ravenclaw plate while she herself picked at the slice on her Hufflepuff plate. The ice cream had begun to melt, making her cake soggy and less appetizing. _

_ The following week at school, each of the no-show guests found a busted sandwich bag of melted ice cream in the bottom of their backpacks, ruining their things. _

_ Ashleigh wondered if maybe Peter should have been in Slytherin. _

_ ————— _

"Shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you—" she paused, doubling over to catch her breath when she finally noticed who it was she had knocked over. Peter. "Fuck, what are you doing here?" She groaned.

"Looking for you," he said, but there was a strange unfamiliarity to his voice. Like it was him, and yet it wasn't him. It gave Ashleigh a bad feeling down her spine.

Suddenly frightened, she took a step back. "What the hell do you mean? Can't get enough torturing me at school and at my work? Now you gotta track me down at home, too?"

"I'm not here to torture you, Ashleigh," he said. "I'm here to invite you to the Hive."

"The what?" She took another step back as he got up off the sidewalk.

"The Hive!" He replied enthusiastically, taking a step toward her. "We're like a family, but better— we can hear each other all the time, no matter how far apart we are! It's a lot of fun. Just let me start your apotheosis and you can join us."

"Okay, I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Peter, but I have to go— hey!" He lunged for her, and she shoved him away. He fell on his ass, but looked unfazed.

To Ashleigh's growing horror, Peter started to sing. He'd always been pretty good at it— they'd frequently had karaoke parties just the two of them, growing up— but this was some next-level skill.

" **I know lately we haven't been very close, but you've always known me better than most—** " he got up and tried again. They grappled for a moment, before she ducked away. " **And I know I haven't been a very good friend, but if you'll just join us until the very end—** "

He lunged one final time, and this time Ashleigh was actually ready for it. She shoved right back, pinning him to the ground.

This time when he fell, he hit his head on the concrete and didn't get back up. Panicking, Ashleigh checked for his pulse, and didn't calm down even when she found it. Looking around and finding no one else, she grabbed Peter's arms and started dragging him the rest of the way to her apartment.

_ ————— _

_ When they were thirteen, he kissed her. _

_ Everyone at school was talking about crushes and getting boyfriends or girlfriends, first kisses and dates. Some were speculating that Peter and Ashleigh were already together, or would end up that way. They always denied it— they were best friends, nothing more!— but it always left a small ache in Ashleigh's stomach. For as long as she could remember, she'd wished that he felt the same way as she did, but it never happened. _

_ When he kissed her, it was because she'd asked him to be her first. She wanted someone she trusted not to hurt her, and he'd agreed to it. He kissed her gently, cupping her cheek with one hand like they'd seen in all the movies. It's soft, not much more than pressing their lips together, but it lasted several moments before he pulls away. _

_ Then Ashleigh had thanked him, of all the things to say after a first kiss. She'd actually  _ _ thanked _ _ him, and they never spoke of it again. _

_ ————— _

When they got there, she tied him up with some paracord she'd found in her dad's old things. She bound his feet together, and his arms to his sides. Then she locked and barricaded the front door and waited.

Ashleigh grabbed the baseball bat she'd bought for self defense.

"Shit," she moaned. "Fuck, what the fuck is going on?" She scrambled for the TV remote, hoping there would be some answers on the news.

She tuned in just in time to hear the phrase "musical riot", and then she blanched. She glanced back at her former best friend, tied up on her sofa, thinking about the day's events.

He sang to her, but even before that, there was the flashmob down the street from Beanie's, and the way Zoey and Nora were behaving about the tip song.

Peter's nose looked like it was bleeding, but there was something off about it... his blood was a bright bluish-purple color.

"What the fuck?" She exclaimed, grabbing some paper napkins and a plastic sandwich bag. The moment she started dabbing at the not-quite-blood, Peter woke up.

_ ————— _

_ When Ashleigh was fourteen, less than six months after her first kiss, her dad died. _

_ A car accident. A hit and run from a drunk driver. Her father was dead before he hit the ground. _

_ When she first found out, the first person she called was Peter, but before she could get a word out, he was yelling at her to leave him alone. He hung up on her. Ashleigh cried even harder every night for the next several weeks. _

_ School started up— ninth grade! High school! Ashleigh should have been ecstatic, spending time with Peter to study. Instead, he avoided her, and she returned the favor. Their teachers started pitting them against one another, letting them compete for the top grades. He typically won in math and chemistry. She usually beat him in english, history, and biology. Both came in close second in the ones they didn't win. _

_ Ashleigh sat alone at a lunch table. _

_ Peter sat surrounded by people, all chattering animatedly every day. _


	3. Chapter 3: The Hive

_ When Ashleigh was fifteen, on the one year anniversary of her father's death, her mother began drinking to cope. Then she turned to other things— harder drugs, and the men who sold them to her. She'd bring these men home with her a couple times a week, and the house always smelled horrible afterward. _

_ Then her mother started hitting her. Grabbing her forcefully, throwing and slapping her around, pulling her hair. She was always careful not to leave marks and bruises, until she wasn't. _

_ It was physically painful, when she broke Ashleigh's arm, but it gave the girl what she needed to get herself emancipated. The court system forced Evelyn Maddox into rehab, and paid Ashleigh monthly to help her survive on her own. She was sixteen by then— sweet sixteen, come and gone— and was able to get a job at the local coffee shop. _

_ The job, the apartment, the bicycle. Groceries. A cell phone, with a prepaid minutes plan that she had to refill every month. _

_ For the first time, Ashleigh was grateful that she had no one to text or call. _

—————

"Wha— what did you do? I can't hear them anymore!" He cried, thrashing around.

"Hear who? What are you talking about?" Ashleigh snapped.

"The Hive, I can't— they can't— I can't feel them anymore—" he was starting to panic, wiggling around to try and escape.

"I really don't want to do this, Peter, but if you don't start explaining, I'm gonna knock you out again," Ashleigh threatened him, showing him the bat she'd grabbed from her closet.

"I was happy," he moaned. "For the first time since middle school, I had a family, and friends, and I was happy!"

"Peter," she growled.

"The Hive is a family," he insisted. "We can hear each other telepathically, thanks to our apotheosis. The spores from the meteor last night—"

"You're saying this is some kind of alien invasion?"

"Not an invasion," Peter said, shaking his head.

"Right," Ashleigh deadpanned, remembering the word he'd used earlier. "An... apotheosis. As in... the highest point in something's development or evolution. You wanna evolve the world and do... what, exactly?"

"What else? Share our song!"

"If it weren't for the fact that the whole town's freaking out, and you already started singing once, I'd be seriously tempted to laugh in your face," she muttered. "This... Hive, is turning the world into a fucking musical?"

Peter nodded.

"We were, until you broke my connection," he said, losing his enthusiasm. Ashleigh watched him slump into his seat, staring dejectedly at her. "Now I don't know what the Hive wants."

"Maybe that means I can cure you," she breathed. "We can get out of Hatchetfield together, because I don't really want to leave you behind if I don't have to. But I swear to God if you start singing again..."

Peter's expression changed from despair to confusion and curiosity. "What's that mean?"

Hesitant, Ashleigh explained, "You were my best friend for a long time... and look, I would love a family, but... I don't think the Hive is the way to go about getting one, you know?"

Something about his expression changed again, but she couldn't pinpoint it. He looked away. "Where're your parents?"

"My dad's dead," she said shortly. "He died just before freshman year. And my mom took up drinking and other activities to ignore her problems, A.K.A. being a single mother, so I got emancipated and have been living on my own ever since."

"I'm sorry, Ashleigh," he said quietly, and for the first time sounded like himself again. "My mom left right around then, to go live with her new boyfriend in Clivesdale. Then they moved further. I haven't talked to her since, and she hasn't tried to reach out."

"Goddamn, we're both our own kind of fucked up, aren't we? How's your dad doing?"

"He took me to the Starlight Theatre last night to see Mamma Mia, and then the meteor hit, and now we're part of the Hive," Peter said, slipping back into that other version of him, the one that gave Ashleigh bad vibes. "We're finally happy together, and I'm sure the Hive could do the same for you and your mom if you gave it a chance!"

"No," she snapped, and that was the end of that. "I don't want the Hive, I wanted you! I want my dad back! But you ditched me, and he's dead. You were my best friend, and I— I loved you," she whispered.

Peter stares at her in silent shock, his lips forming a small 'o'.

Blinking back tears, she admitted, "I still do. God help me, I want you back the way you were. Maybe that's selfish, but I don't think you would've chosen to join the Hive if you were given the choice."

Her stomach growled, and she left him on the couch while she went to the kitchen to find something to eat. There wasn't much, since she hadn't gone to the grocery like she'd meant to after work. There was enough for one sandwich or some crackers, but she didn't know if Peter was hungry.

She didn't want to go back over there, so she went to her room to find her emergency stash, grabbing one of the granola bars from under the loose floorboard in her closet. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she ate quietly and listened for anything weird outside the apartment. It was already dark outside, and Ashleigh checked her alarm clock. How was it almost seven o'clock at night already?

Her anxieties crept up on her, until she felt like she was suffocating in her work uniform's tie. Ashleigh wrestled out of it, throwing it across the small room, and decided to change into something more comfortable while she was at it. She traded her skorts and button down for jeans and a sweatshirt, and her contacts for her glasses. She wiped off her makeup while she was at it, and splashed cold water on her face.

She went back out into the kitchen/living room, and sat on the floor with her back to the fridge. Pulling out her phone, she fiddled with it. There was truly no one she could call for help. Even if she managed to get through to emergency services, there was no guarantee that they wouldn't already be infected like Peter was.

A few tears slipped out, and she sniffled as she tried to wipe them away.

"You know, you wouldn't be sad anymore if you joined the Hive," Peter piped up. "You wouldn't be scared or anxious, either. Just happy. And... we could be together."

Swallowing harshly, she replied to him. "I'd rather stay human, thanks. I don't want you to want me if it's just the Hive talking."

"I'm still human!" Peter snapped. "I'm talking for myself, not for the Hive, because I love you, too."

"Your blood is purple, and you said yourself something about spores from last night's meteor," she sighed, turning to face the couch, leaning sideways against the fridge instead of her back against it. "Spores aren't human, and I don't believe you."

"I—" he cut himself off, obviously struggling for an argument. They went back to silence for several minutes.

Somewhere outside, there was the sound of a helicopter flying over, low to the ground. Ashleigh wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a good thing or not.

She glanced at Peter again, and saw he was struggling to stay awake. His eyes looked about as heavy as hers felt.

"You can sleep," she said. "I'm not gonna torture you or anything."

"I'm not— I just—" his voice was slowly returning to normal again. "I wanna lay down, but not in my glasses," he said finally, huffing.

Rolling her eyes, Ashleigh got up and gently took his glasses off for him, folding them and setting them on the side table. Then she pushed him sideways until he was laying down. He pulled his feet up while she did so.

"Get some sleep, Peter," she whispered. "We're gonna be here for a while."


	4. Chapter 4: The Bad Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of 3 alternate endings.

Ashleigh shuffled around her kitchen as she waited for Peter to wake up. Her stomach growled, despite the fact that she'd made and eaten a sandwich after all. She shoved it aside, and went to work to clean some dishes she hadn't gotten to before.

She was mid-scrub when the water and electricity both shut off, and she sighed.

Peter started humming in his sleep, and Ashleigh started to freak out again. She grabbed the roll of duct tape from under the kitchen sink, and slapped a piece across his mouth— just in case the humming grew into something worse. She had no idea what she'd do if he started to actually sing again.

—————

_ When they were eight, they had sleepovers all the time. They'd stay up as late as they could, watching lyric videos on YouTube and singing along to the songs. Disney, mostly. Duets and ensembles, solos that they'd share. _

_ At that age, neither of them were necessarily bad singers, but they weren't very good. But they had fun, and that was all that mattered. _

_ " _ **_Those poor, unfortunate souls!_ ** _ " Ashleigh sang. " _ **_In pain, in need. This one's longing to be thinner, that one wants to get the girl, and do I help them? Yes, indeed!_ ** _ " She winked at Peter, who laughed with her. She was holding her hairbrush like a microphone, and held it to his face to sing the next line. _

_ " _ **_Those poor, unfortunate souls. So sad, so true!_ ** _ " Peter rolled his eyes playfully, not missing a beat. " _ **_They come flocking to my cauldron, crying 'spells, Ursula please!' And I help them. Yeah, I do._ ** _ " _

_ The karaoke sleepovers continued through the years, until they were fourteen and stopped being friends. Their music taste evolved to include non-showtunes, and they'd sing along to whatever floated their fancies. _

—————

Ashleigh rubbed her hands over her face, trying to think. Power and water were shut off, what could she do? Her stomach growled again, but she ignored it. There was too much to focus on, she didn't need to worry about  _ that _ just then.

She tried to get her panicked breathing under control, and went to her medicine cabinet. She had a prescription for an emergency anxiety medication— but the bottle was empty. She groaned. She'd taken the last of it two weeks ago after running into one of her school bullies at the grocery store.

She dropped the empty bottle to the floor and tried to hold back her tears.  _ Fuck, why does this have to be happening now? _

She whirled around at the sound of a thud and crunching cardboard. Peter had woken up, and was flopping around on her so-called coffee table, the upside down cardboard box, which was now squashed beneath him. She heard the sound of her keys jangling, then he broke free of the paracord and lunged for her, ripping the tape off his own mouth without flinching.

" **We could have done this the easy way,** " he sang to her, the melody dark and angry. " **But you never were one for all the games.** "

Ashleigh tried to fight back, keeping him at arm's length and clawing at his face. "Get off me, Peter!" She cried.

" **I tried to play it nice, I tried to be your friend again,** " he kept singing, easily pinning both of her arms to her own chest. " **But you won't have me, not now you've got your second wind.** "

"Please, stop," she begged. He pinned her to the floor, straddling her legs, still singing.

" **You couldn't take my offer, not for your mother, not for me,** " he growled. Tears were actually starting to form in his eyes, and Ashleigh kept begging him to stop. " **Why was I never enough for you, why couldn't you just want me?** "

Ashleigh stopped struggling, sobbing as she resigned herself to her fate. She couldn't get him off her— he was far too strong. He opened his mouth to sing the next line, leaning his face down like he was going to kiss her—

Then the front door broke down, and gunshots rang out. Peter slumped over, blue blood spraying everywhere. She shoved him off her, still crying, and tried to thank her saviors as she sat up.

But they shot her, next. Ashleigh fell back to the floor again, red blood trickling out from three entry wounds: one in the head, two in the heart. Empty eyes stared at Peter.


	5. Chapter 5: The Good Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second of three alternate endings.

Ashleigh didn't remember falling asleep, but she woke up in a sitting position on the floor, leaning sideways against the couch with her head resting on the seat. Peter was awake, but it looked like it was only by a few seconds. Something must have woken them both up... her stomach growled again, but that wasn't it.

She got up to go check the clock, but the electricity was out. Then she remembered her phone in her pocket. It said it was just after midnight.

She glanced back at Peter, who was shaking like he was having a seizure. Bright blue blood dripped from his nose, and Ashleigh dashed back over to him with a wad of napkins to try to stifle the bleeding. Then she realized it wasn't blood, but something else entirely. She had no idea what it was exactly, but it was bright blue and translucent. Some kind of goo just pouring out of his nose.

Eventually, it stopped coming out, and Peter was left with a small trickle of normal, red blood down his lip and chin. The goo had left a nasty mess all over him and the couch, but Ashleigh didn't care.

She dabbed at the real blood, wiping away the blue shit.

"Fuck," she mumbled. "Peter, can you hear me? Are you okay?"

"What's happening?" He moaned, eyes closed tight. "My head hurts, why does it hurt?"

Ashleigh ran to the window next to the front door, and saw smoke rising from downtown. Something in her chest felt lighter, like a weight being removed.

"Something happened downtown," she said. "Maybe something to the meteor."

Her thoughts raced. "If the spores came from there, and something destroyed it, maybe that means you're okay, now! You're bleeding normally, now—"

"What are you talking about?" Peter interrupted. "What spores, what meteor?"

She froze. Did he really not remember, or was this another trick?

"Peter, what do you think of when I say the word hive?"

"I don't know," he snapped. "Bees?"

"Bees," she repeated slowly.

"Where are we? And why am I tied up?" He sounded scared.

"My place, because you tried to attack me earlier today... or yesterday, rather. It's past midnight," she mumbled the last part, trying to figure out what to do.

"What?!" Peter blanched, struggling to sit up. "I would never do that, why would I do that!"

"From what I can tell, you were possessed by some kind of alien hive mind," Ashleigh shrugged, hoping to seem calm, and went over to help him up. "You kept talking about it, insisting I had to join you and that it would fix all my family problems like it did for you and your dad."

He froze, squinting at her, and she gave him his glasses back— carefully putting them on his face so she didn't poke him in the eye. She knew how that felt.

Her name left his lips, and she sat down next to him. "You told me about your mom," she said, finally starting to believe him. "And I told you about mine. Sort of. A little bit." She shrank into herself for a moment, before moving to finally untie him.

"What, exactly, did I tell you?"

"That she left to be with her new boyfriend, and hasn't even tried to connect with you since she left," she replied, moving to the rope at his feet.

"And what did you say about yours?"

"That she's turned to drugs and alcohol since my dad died. Well, I think my exact words were alcohol and  _ other activities _ ," Ashleigh mumbled, "'cause it's not just drugs. She's had a lot of boyfriends... or at least, a lot of guys have come home with her."

Finished with her task, Ashleigh look back up at Peter, who pulled her into a hug. She hesitated to return it, fearful she was wrong and it  _ was _ a trick, but he didn't start singing.

"What's the last thing you remember?" She mumbled into his shoulder once she returned the hug, wrapping her arms around him.

"My dad had tickets to see Mamma Mia downtown, but the theatre was destroyed by the meteor when we got there," Peter said, pulling back and straightening his glasses. Ashleigh had to straighten hers, too, and clean them of the tears clinging to them. Peter took her hand.

"I think I'm starting to remember more, though. About what you said before," he said. "I'm really sorry about the last couple years... I never wanted school to come between us, and I never meant to torture you."

That made her pause in confusion. She didn't know what he meant by that, and told him so.

"When this started, you said something about me torturing you at school and work," he explained. "I never meant to  _ torture _ you. I just... didn't know what else to do anymore, I guess." He dropped her hand so he could fiddle with his own, not meeting her eyes. "I went to Beanie's just so I could see you more. And I never tipped to be an A-hole, like that other barista said to the rude guy the other day. I was trying to be nice."

"God, I've never hated people who tipped until Nora brought that stupid singing thing in last week," Ashleigh sighed. "I love singing, but I  _ hate _ performing."

"I should have told you that you didn't have to sing," he said. "But I've always loved hearing your singing voice."

Ashleigh felt her cheeks heat up in a blush. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"And you were right, I never would have chosen the Hive on my own," Peter assured her. "But... there is one thing I said that I actually meant."

Ashleigh glanced at him, eyes darting all over his face as she tried to calm her racing heart. "Peter, I—"

"I've been in love with you since the fourth grade," he admitted. "It broke me when we stopped being friends, when I couldn't go to you about the drama with my mom. That's why I went to Beanie's all the time. Because, no offence, but the hot chocolate there sucks."

"So does the coffee," Ashleigh admitted with a wry grin and a sniffle. She grabbed his hands. "We need to get out of Hatchetfield, or else none of this will matter."

"How? How do we leave? The bridge was raised, and the ferries aren't running!"

Ashleigh swallowed harshly, trying and failing to come up with a plan. "We could swim to Clivesdale," she joked weakly.

"Or... my uncle still has his fishing boat," Peter countered, words coming slowly as he thought it through. "We'd have to row, but we could make it across the sound."

"Where's he docked?"

"Near the bridge," Peter answered.

"Do you think the Hive will be keeping an eye on the bridge, for people who might try to escape that way?" Ashleigh didn't want to think about what would happen if Peter got re-infected.

"No, they were too focused on getting to someone named Paul, on the other side of the island." He shook his head, standing up and pulling Ashleigh with him.

"We're doing this?" She checked, and he nodded.

"We're doing this," he confirmed.

—————

From the very moment they stepped out of her apartment, everything was different. The street had been dead before, sure, but even when the teens were quiet, they could still hear the singing in the distance. But now? Dead silence. Not even crickets were chirping.

The only sound was a low wind rustling the leaves on the trees.

They carefully made their way through town, and Ashleigh nearly vomited when they came across the first dead body. It was a woman whose guts had been torn from her belly, pooling out in a heap around her. There were more, further down the street. Other people, in the same state. 

But there were also survivors. Living people, stumbling around, who must have either not been infected, or they had been but in a different way. Anyone and everyone who was bleeding, bled red. Not blue.

"They must've been kissed," Peter muttered beside her.

"What?" She hissed.

"Some of them could spread the infection by kissing someone," Peter explained carefully. "Not all of them. Most of them had to— had to do that." He pointed to the dead woman.

"Did... did you?" Ashleigh wouldn't know how to feel if the answer turned out to be 'yes', but it didn't matter. She leaned into him some more anyway, before he answered.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I didn't infect anyone. You... you were going to be my first."

Ashleigh's breath hitched. "How?"

"I—" Peter hesitated. "I would've been able to kiss you. I was going to."

Ashleigh nodded slowly, processing. Was it weird if she still wanted him to kiss her? Not at that very moment, of course, but when she was sure they were safe. In Clivesdale.

"We should keep moving," Peter mumbled, and she nodded again, letting him lead her.

They made it to the docks without getting stopped or bothered by other survivors, and Peter helped her climb into the fishing boat. The keys to the engine were hidden and taped under one of the seats, and he started it up and steered them toward Clivesdale. Surprisingly, there were teams of emergency responders waiting on the beach— and the teens weren't the first stragglers to arrive.

—————

Two weeks later, Ashleigh was finally let out of isolation and quarantine, and allowed to reunite with some of the other survivors, including Peter. Emma and Black Coffee Guy were among the others, both looking worse for wear but okay.

"I can't believe we made it," Paul said quietly. "After all that... we survived."

"Less than half the town did," Emma said, wincing as she shifted her weight to her bad leg. Paul helped her sit down.

"I'm never letting you not a wear a seatbelt again," Paul mumbled.

Peter hugged Ashleigh tightly. "I'm glad you're okay. The doctors said you were malnourished. Like, half starved to death."

"Yeah, money's been pretty tight lately," she admitted quietly. "Rent and school fees kinda had to come before groceries."

"Not anymore," Emma called. "You're living with me from now on. If I'd known how bad you were doing before, I would've done this sooner. I've been looking for a roommate."

Ashleigh laughed quietly. "Don't roommates usually get a choice in whether or not they're gonna live with somebody?"

"Usually," Emma allowed. "But not this time. What about you, Peter? Do you need a place to stay?"

"I... I don't know," he admitted. "I don't know where my dad is... if he made it. And my mom's out there somewhere, too. Outside of Hatchetfield."

"You don't have to live with her if she's all that's left," Ashleigh said gently. "You could emancipate, like I did."

"I'll be eighteen in just a few weeks anyway," Peter said, sighing. "Does it really matter if we're not getting out of here before then?"

"Probably not," Paul said.

Emma yawned, so Paul took her back to her room, leaving Ashleigh and Peter in hers. She laid her head on his shoulder.

"I love you, too," she mumbled. "I didn't get to say it before... I was too scared. But now that we're safe, I— I want to."

He kissed the top of her head. "I love you," he whispered. "Can I... can I kiss you? For real?"

She pulled away and grinned wryly up at him. "Like when we were thirteen?"

"Not exactly," he admitted, and cupped both sides of her face to kiss her.

It definitely wasn't like the one when they were thirteen. It was much better than that.


	6. Chapter 6: The True Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third and final of three alternate endings.

Ashleigh groaned as she crawled out of bed the next morning, praying it had all been some kind of fucked up dream. When she went out and saw Peter still fast asleep on her couch, she knew it hadn't been a nightmare. She ran to the bathroom to throw up. There wasn't much to come up, but when she was done, she rinsed out her mouth and brushed her teeth. She went back into her room and put on a fresh sweatshirt, wiping her eyes from half-shed tears. She just wanted it all to be over.

She went back out to the main room again and got herself a spoonful of peanut butter. She had less than a quarter of the jar left, one more granola bar in her room, and a sleeve of crackers. It wouldn't last very long, even for just her— but what if Peter got hungry? What was she supposed to do then?

She growled, slamming her spoon down, and wiped her eyes again.

"Huh?" Peter mumbled behind her. He was slowly trying to sit up. "What happened?"

"Peter?" Ashleigh asked cautiously, grabbing her baseball bat again.

"Ashleigh?" He sounded bewildered. "What happened? Where are we?"

"You attacked me," she said carefully. "I knocked you out and brought you back here, to my place."

"What— why would I attack you?" He started to struggle. "I would never hurt you, why would I— why—?"

"You said something about a Hive," she said. "Or rather The Hive. Something about the meteor from last night, and spores, and an Apotheosis— you were rambling. And singing." Ashleigh winced at those memories. The lyrics were starting to get to her.

"Singing?" Peter mumbled. "God..."

"You really don't remember?" She asked, staring at him for any trace of lying. He shook his head, and Ashleigh could tell he was telling the truth, so she cut him loose.

He hugged her, half-crying, and she froze up for a moment. She gently hugged him back, patting his back a little awkwardly.

"We should get out of here," she mumbled, gently pushing him away, and he nodded.

"Right," he sniffled. "Um... how?"

"I don't know," Ashleigh admitted. "Clivesdale raised the bridge, and the ferries are down for the season."

"I think my uncle still has his old fishing boat," Peter said slowly. "Down at the docks, near where the ferry comes. We could try to use it..."

Ashleigh nodded. "That could work," she said. "We'd have to get to it, though. That's on the other side of town. I— uh, I haven't eaten much lately. I don't know if I can make it that far."

"We'll find you something to eat on the way," Peter promised. "I'm not leaving without you. C'mon."

Peter grabbed her hand and dragged her to the door. They slowly moved the barricade out of the way, and she unlocked the door. He took her hand again and crept toward the next apartment over. The door was wide open, which wasn't a good sign, but it didn't look like anyone was home.

"Mrs. Lopez has always been nice to me," Ashleigh mumbled, feeling bad for what she was about to do, but she knew she had to do it.

She ducked inside to her neighbor's kitchen and started raiding the cupboards. She found some granola bars— similar to the ones Ashleigh bought, but name brand and better— and stuffed a few into her sweatshirt pocket, unwrapping one more and biting into it.

—————

_ When they were eight, Ashleigh's dad caught them sneaking candy from the Halloween bucket before going trick-or-treating. He'd scolded them a bit, before winking and slipping them each one of their favorites. _

_ Dorothy and the Scarecrow ran off into the night, giggling to themselves, as they munched on Reese's together. _

—————

Ashleigh ate quickly, taking two more from her neighbor's cupboard and scarfing them down. She offered one to Peter, who declined it.

"You need it more than I do," he said quietly, grimacing. She shook her head.

"There's plenty here," she promised, but he still declined it.

"I actually feel like I'm gonna be sick," he admitted. "Can we just keep moving? I wanna get out of here..."

She agreed, and the snuck back out.

As they made their way through town, they recognized their neighbors and classmates among the singing crowds. They had to stop and hide several times, getting in some pretty close calls, but they eventually made it to the docks. They were empty of other people, and Ashleigh breathed a small sigh of relief.

Peter found the keys for the fishing boat's motor, and started it up. Ashleigh winced at how loud it was, and kept an eye out for anyone who might have heard and wanted to come investigate. No one did, not until Peter and Ashleigh were already far from the shoreline.

She nibbled on another granola bar as Peter steered them to Clivesdale. They beached the boat, and Peter helped her to shore. She was still pretty shaky, so he put one her arms around his shoulders, and one of his arms around her waist, and helped her walk. The height difference made it a bit awkward, but they made it work. They stumbled into town, right to the hospital.

Upon arrival, the hospital staff separated them. Ashleigh didn't see Peter again for a couple days, but when she did, she hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, one arm across her back and the other hand cradling her head. Finally, with a small smile on her face, she pulled away. She led him down the hall to go see Emma.

But when they got there, Emma was crying. Black Coffee Guy, the one Ashleigh recognized as having a crush on Emma, was singing to her. There were a bunch of other people, too— an old man that Emma seemed to recognize, their boss Nora, one of the nurses from the hospital, and others.

Ashleigh grabbed Peter's hand and started to tug him away, but he wouldn't budge.

"We can't save her," Ashleigh hissed. "We have to run!"

But Peter was shaking his head. "You're the one who can't be saved, Ash," he said softly, pulling her to him.

He cupped both sides of her face and kissed her deeply— nothing like the one they'd had when they were thirteen. When he pulled away, his eyes were an unnatural version of his normal blue, and his lips were stained the same color. Ashleigh brought a shaky hand to her own lips, and her fingers came away wet with the same substance. Breathing became difficult, as she choked on the spores Peter had forced onto her.

She fell to her knees, and Peter knelt with her, easing her down.

" **It's inevitable,** " he sang, as she blacked out.


End file.
